


To Be Alone with You

by labocat



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Awkward First Times, F/M, First Time, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-09 23:17:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7821124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/labocat/pseuds/labocat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one had told Maia the details of just what an imperial wedding required of him. He seems to be the only one concerned about it, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Alone with You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aeriel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeriel/gifts).



In the months following the opening of the new year, the feeling that his bulwarks at court had turned into alliances only grew as Maia became more and more comfortable with his new role. He suspected he would never be truly relaxed, but compromises were what he was already coming to be known for - one more couldn’t hurt, even if it was with himself.

He continued to be pleasantly surprised by how _well_ some of them looked to be turning out - relaxed discussions about policy with Idra that he came away from with new ideas more often than not; the now-fixture weekly dinners with Arbelan Zhasanai; letting Vedero talk of the stars at him while he desperately tried to follow along. But at the center of all of them was Csethiro; from being seated at his side at state dinners and softly feeding him information about those at the table to accompanying him on his riding outings where she proved herself an excellent rider as well as as capable with her advice about horses as her advice about dancing, he was assured at every turn that the decision he had made to trust in Csevet’s opinion was the correct one. Much like their dancing lessons, as time passed, he became more and more sure of every step in the complicated dance that was their constrained courtship.

It was only a matter of time before something tripped him up.

“It will be...what?” It was by sheer force of will and practice that Maia kept his voice from breaking on the last word, but he knew a thread of panic had still made it though from the twitch in Csevet’s ears and in the way the rings in his own ears chimed as he struggled not to flatten them. “We do not understand.” It was petulant, a child’s attempt at stalling the inevitable, but it was the only phrase that made it through the swirling haze Csevet’s words had set off.

Csevet’s ears dipped slightly in lieu of the deep breath Maia could tell he wanted to take. “Serenity. The consummation of an imperial marriage is as important politically and legally as the spoken vows and written contract. As such it must be witnessed to ensure honesty on all sides.” He looked up, briefly meeting Maia’s eyes, before finding the sheaf of papers in his hands more interesting than the bright flush high in Maia’s cheeks, a kindness Maia could not, would not, voice. He wondered if Csethiro knew of this obligation and fiercely resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose as he recognized that once again, everyone but he knew what was expected of him. 

Maia thought briefly about protesting that both he and Csethiro were honest - had proved that and their loyalty many times over - but bit his tongue just in time. _Be mindful of what thee has to say, mooncalf_ , his more sensible mind admonished. 

“What are...the circumstances of the witnessing?” Maia was almost proud of the solidity of his voice, and Csevet certainly seemed on firmer ground at hearing it.

“Serenity,” Csevet said, without meeting Maia’s eyes and keeping his eyes and expression studiously still.

“That’s not an answer, Csevet.” Maia almost could have smiled, if not for the sharp spear of reminder that this was his marriage, his _body_ that would be on display, along with Csethiro’s, in front of goddesses only know how many people. 

“All Witnesses will be present in the room, as will we and your First Nohecharei.” Csevet’s voice took on a tone not unlike a student reciting in front of a class, though his voice took a decided rise in pitch as he added, “the bride will be examined beforehand, and sheets will be observed after consummation to ensure that all is as it should be.” 

Maia could only stare ahead, not meeting Csevet’s eyes or acknowledging the ways that Kiru was peering concernedly at him and that Telimezh was trying not to. There was a whole day of audiences and assemblies ahead of him, something he was thankful for as he could focus on something, _anything_ but this. A small curl of anxiety unfolded in his stomach and he battled it back, unwilling to let the panic he felt at ruining this, among so many other things, interfere with the facade of Edrehasivar VII. 

There were already many aspects of their marriage under scrutiny; the court was already quite well aware that Csethiro was one of Vedero’s circle, of a `scholarly bent`, and as such an oddity. While Maia could only be grateful for the way she would cut into conversation at state dinners as he fumbled to keep a line of conversation going or the sharp looks she continued to give Csoru any time the two of them both occupied a room, these actions alienated her from the rest of the courtiers. They placed her firmly as being on Edrehasivar’s side, and in a court that was still finding their footing on what that side and favor entailed, it was a bold statement. Maia liked her for it, perhaps even loved her for it. Now he was to repay that kindness, how? By making a botch of their wedding night, and in front of officials they would have to see daily? 

_Thou wilt get nowhere by wallowing in pity._

But who could he _ask_? He was sure it would come as no surprise to anyone he would even consider broaching the topic with that he had not the slightest idea how to approach this properly, a thought which only served to send a fresh swell of dread and self-pity rolling through him.

“Serenity?” Csevet’s question brought him back to the present where he was all too aware of the concern starting to creep into his secretary’s eyes. Maia quickly schooled his expression into something that masked the slow horror still building in his stomach and approached professional if it did not meet it entirely. 

“Go on. We are sure there are other things in our schedule that require attention and we have spent too long on this already.” Mercifully, Csevet merely shuffled the papers in his hands and moved on to the next topic, an audience that afternoon with two dukes that both claimed that not only had their request for aid been waylaid, but had been done so by the other duke. It was a problem that occupied his attention entirely and he welcomed the distraction eagerly, throwing himself into the issue.

It seemed, however, that every small moment when his mind was not otherwise occupied dragged his thoughts straight back to the undeniable coming disaster. He was aware Edonomee had been remote; he was not expected to bed anyone there, much less marry. There had been as much chance of going out to a field, catching a snake, and having it tell him what to expect and to do under the covers as there had been of Setheris to tell him. He had a whole cabinet of learned men and advisers, but no one to turn to to ask how to save his marriage.

Because that was what was at stake here. Idra did not want to become Emperor, but perhaps those feelings would change as they both grew and as it became clear that Csethiro would not let Maia anywhere near her once he had botched this. It felt like a betrayal of his nephew, the crown atop the disaster; their family line still had chances, but Maia could not hope for a better match than the one he had already been conscripted into. None of his other choices had Csethiro’s spark and dry humor or her surprising patience with him. And here he was, on the verge of destroying it all. Perhaps they could get by on a cordial marriage, remain friends until the years grew too many and his court began whispering about putting her aside for a wife able to bear him children. Never knowing that the problem lay with him; he was sure Csethiro could do anything she set her mind to, bearing children included. He would not force her to stay with him, but she was as trapped in the situation as he was and the thought of her so unhappy turned his stomach yet again. More likely he would be relegated to those early weeks of their acquaintance: she in her circles in far corners, laughter - surely at him - rising at intervals as he stood alone, the solitary Winter Emperor. The cold feeling continued to churn in his stomach.

It was with a similarly lessened appetite he sat down for his dinner with Arbelan Zhasanai. Csethiro had begun to join them, wanting to reconnect with her great-aunt - something Maia had encouraged with great enthusiasm. He wished he had been a little less enthusiastic when she entered the room and he could feel the blood drain out of his face at the knowledge that he would destroy their fragile relationship before it had a chance to truly become anything. He had made such progress with the Witnesses, with the Wisdom Bridge, with finally getting to test and flex the manners and rhetoric lessons Setheris had ground into him with ferocity. But here was a problem that could not be solved by being clever, that was not covered in the impeccable court manners. Not for the first time, he regretted being so far from his grandfather. As frightening and imposing the Avar had been, he had a way of bending the rigid procedure Maia surrounded himself with that always left him feeling both like he had been trampled over but oddly relieved and clearer-headed. He was sure the conversation would have been awkward, but that he would have gotten answers.

There was no time for a letter to go and come back before the wedding, but beside that, Maia couldn’t bear to put the words to paper where any courier or mailroom worker would handle it, could have the chance of seeing his sure failure. 

Equally upsetting was that there was no one in his own court he could trust to have that conversation with. Any of his courtiers likely had more knowledge than he, but there were none he could take into confidence nor any he truly wanted to. His nohecharei were the next most likely, but he couldn’t bear the flash of pity he knew he’d see in the eyes of whoever he asked, nor the knowledge that they would have to stand by and witness his inability first hand. 

That night he excused himself from the meal early, earning barely-guarded stares from all present. But he couldn’t sit there any longer, not with Csethiro across from him and friendly warmth in her eyes when they met his. The constant reminder of the kindling trust that he was about to destroy was too much to bear.

He began taking to avoiding her as much as he could - perhaps if he lessened their interactions now and stopped the way the distance between them had been lessening, his fumbling disaster of a wedding night and subsequent ruin of their marriage would hurt less. He could prepare himself for the worst and resign himself to no one being happy; the Untheileneise Court would be the more stable for having no sudden break between their Emperor and Empress. He could not duel, after all, to deal with any fallout and reparations of honor and it was looking increasingly unlikely that he would ever be able to ask Csethiro to teach him how or at least the rules of it. 

The quizzical looks made him wince and he could feel his ears flatten slightly; he was not good at being subtle about subterfuge and he was sure she could tell he was avoiding her more than his schedule made necessary. 

\-----

She had noticed - it was hard not to after the third time Edrehasivar had begged off on something so simple as a passing greeting in the corridor - and while Csethiro had no intention on going back on her duty, this was a situation that could not be allowed to persist. Edrehasivar - and he was Edrehasivar, His Imperial Serenity, in these moments, polished and braided and politely smooth as he gave excuse after excuse, not Maia, whom she had come to know and whose flash of insecurity she could see in the moments when his eyes met hers - looked to be a better husband than she had allowed herself to expect, but she would find the root of this problem and correct it. She was a firm believer in taking care of problems at their root, and she was so often denied that approach as their roots were often fellow courtiers. And as she had been reminded, dueling was not an approved form of problem-solving these days. 

Personally, she felt that many of Edrehasivar’s debates and compromises would be more easily settled at dawn with drawn blades; finesse left her when the blade left her hand and his ability to find a compromise and the direct yet inoffensive words to communicate those compromises was one of the things she had come to respect about her intended. So many years around the honeyed, insincere words of her peers had made her long for the comfort of the blunt honesty of Vedero’s circle and her own that she had cultivated. She had been surprised to find that honesty in Maia; he softened his words, undoubtedly, but even as she had watched his confidence grow the months he was in power, he still hadn’t lost that open sincerity. It was why she had wheedled her father into letting her offer the sunblade as the Ceredada’s gift for Edrehasivar’s birthday ceremony. The seed of loyalty she felt towards him even then had echoed what she’d thought the fierce loyalty the sunblade represented should feel like when she had read the wonder tales as a child. She had given her father reasons more befitting a courtier - they were to be married, it would be an appropriate symbol of their loyalty after Sheveän’s betrayal, and so forth - but she could tell from the indulgent smile he gave her that he discerned a bit of her true intent.

But it would be all for naught if Maia persisted in continuing to draw away from her.

Fine. If she couldn’t talk to him directly, she would go to the next best thing.

It was alarmingly easy to corner Csevet - before she had started, she had almost called a messenger boy instead to call him to her apartments - though she supposed this close to the wedding, their circles of planning and assurances overlapped more and more. A discreet clearing of her throat to call his attention, then a request to discuss a matter privately, and they were ensconced in a side room, easy as breathing.

“We are concerned, Csevet. Our intended seems to be overworked and overstressed. We would appeal to you to lessen his schedule so that he might have more time to relax and not overtax himself, especially as our marriage is upcoming.”

Csevet’s bows were always things of beauty and this one was no exception: perfect to the degree for the intended of his employer who also happened to be his Emperor. She was glad Csoru’s idiotic trends were being overturned; as much as she preferred bowing, it was impractical in skirts and looked far more elegant in a jacket and trousers. Not to mention that when she wore trousers, she was unlikely to have her hair dressed with elaborate braids and combs and tashin sticks that threatened to slide after too many bows - privately, she thought that was why Csoru clung so stubbornly to her status and its low incline of bow towards any other. But she recognized the long bow as the stalling tactic it was and was about to sigh when Csevet rose.

“Dach’osmin Ceredin, we must humbly apologize if His Serenity’s schedule seems overloaded. We can only say that it is of his choosing and his mind has been much occupied with your upcoming marriage, as it is but a week away” he finally said, his gaze straightforward, but even she caught the small flick of his left ear at the end of his excuse. 

“Much occupied,” she repeated. “It is unusual for one of his position to be concerned with something so easily planned by others as a wedding.” Another twitch, this time at the corner of Csevet’s mouth, told her that this was indeed the correct line of questioning.

“Dach’osmin, we both know that Edrehasivar is hardly usual.” 

Csethiro clasped her hands in front of her in an attempt to look pleading as well as a precaution against the desire to to wave away the slightly stricken look that had crossed Csevet’s face at the blunt remark. She could tell she was not the only one Maia’s openness had had an affect on.

“Yes, but it is hardly as if _he_ is the one that will be subject to examination, nor the one who -- oh,” she stopped suddenly, and she heard the clacking of her tashin sticks as she tilted her head quizzically. “Csevet, was this the first our intended learned about the full legalities of the ceremony?” Thankfully neither an angry nor embarrassed blush covered her cheeks, having gone through the conversation and her opinions on the uselessness of the formalities with her friends many times over already, but she could see a faint hint of one on Csevet’s.

“Yes, Dach’osmin, we have reason to believe His Serenity was unaware of the details of the ceremony.” 

Csethiro took a while to respond to that, Maia’s actions the past fortnight coming into clearer perspective. “You have given us much to think about, Csevet, and we thank you for it. In return, if you could tell our intended that he need not fret so, we would be much obliged.”

She could see the small relief in his eyes even as it warred with hesitation in the set of his mouth. “His Serenity has - as you have pointed out, Dach’osmin - many concerns and a heavily loaded schedule. We will be sure it comes to his attention the next time the wedding is discussed. Though it may be quicker simply to make it clear the next time you speak with him,” Csevet finally said.

It was all Csethiro could do not to sigh. With Maia avoiding her in all but the most public of venues - hardly the place to bring up such a personal discussion - and if her reading of Csevet’s language was correct, other matters were to take priority over the anxiety of their wedding night. It seemed she would simply have to make preparations of her own. It would hardly be the first time she had wanted to, and she could feel the quirked grin start to spread across her face as she turned to take her leave of Csevet.

\-----

If asked, Maia would have said he had done an admirable job of not letting himself be any more anxious over his coming wedding night as the morning of dawned than he had been when he had first heard the news of what would be expected of him. But of course no one asked; he had still not screwed up the courage to ask anyone around him for advice as to how not make a total mess of the whole thing, and it was not toward to bring up such a worry without his expressing it first. 

So he tried his best to pick at his breakfast and felt suitably guilty when all he could consume was his cup of chamomile tea. To his surprise, instead of concern, Isheian offered him a shy, encouraging smile as she cleared his barely-touched plate and empty cup. He received similarly encouraging nods from Kiru and Telimezh as he retreated back to his chambers to meet with his edocharei to be dressed for the ceremony. 

It almost made it worse, somehow, to have approval for his nerves when the real reason for them was much more disastrous than any of them suspected. Memorizing his lines for the ceremony had been no worse than his coronation. It had been easier, in fact, for not being surrounded by the upheaval of everything he knew and had thought about his life. For all outward appearances, it should be an easy task - he had no grand speeches to make; down to what seemed to be the smallest detail was already dictated by tradition - all he had to do was let himself be dressed, speak his lines at the correct time, and not trip on the stairs to the dais. The consummation would hardly be considered a trial from his side; he was sure at least half the court assumed him to have experience in these matters already, and those that might not or were close enough to him to deduce he had none would think it far too improper to give the impression that they knew.

The rest of the day was no reprieve: with the wedding set to begin at moon-rise so that the Csethio could bless their union with the full light of the moon and stars, there were simply too many hours remaining for Maia to ponder possible outcomes. He finally fled to meditate the remaining hours away and if he didn’t feel _better_ , he felt more centered, at least. Maia was glad his edocharei were used to chattering around him, their reverence and thinly-veiled envy for the elaborate wedding robes they dressed him in creating a comfortable cloud of words and thoughts that had nothing to do with his duties later. 

The wedding robes were a wonder - over the white velvet jacket and trousers was a robe of linen flatlined to a lace so delicate it seemed to float above where it was not attached to the fabric and picked out with blue embroidery in a shade such as to so perfectly match Csethiro’s eyes that Maia knew it had been made for this day alone. A net set with moonstones and sapphires was set over his hair in the place of combs and he instinctively knew that Csethiro would be dressed in one identical to it, down to the fine veil that was drawn over his features. Maia took a small comfort in having that barrier of fabric, fine as it was, at least for now, letting himself sink into the hazy meditative state he’d left not so long ago. He could do this; he would fulfill his role in the ceremony with all the dignity he could muster and would take the rest as it came.

His resolve lasted until the moment he came into view of Csethiro. As he had suspected, she had been dressed to complement his own robes: a dress of such pale blue as to almost be white but that he could still tell was derived from the blue his embroidery had been dyed, silver embroidery as a symbol of the rank she was about to ascend to, and moonstones where sapphires adorned his own fingers and ears. Her veil was lowered as well, but even through the dual layers of gauze, he could tell her expression was calm, almost pleased. He had been prepared for almost anything but that, but he supposed from her perspective, the worst was all but over. With a sinking thought, he remembered how she had approached him about Min Vechin and their supposed relationship. She likely assumed he would know what to do when it came time for the consummation and should have no concerns about it. It twisted his empty, aching stomach further to think that he would let her expectations down further than he had prepared for. 

He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. _Thou wilt carry on; it has not been so long as for thee to have forgotten how to shoulder being a disappointment._ The wedding would proceed, and if Csethiro held him in contempt come morning, he hoped it would at least only be privately. She flashed him a quick, crooked smile as he took her hands to signal the beginning of the ceremony and he felt his heart sink further even as he tried to cover it with a smile of his own.

The ceremony itself was a long, drawn-out blur of calls and responses, of Csethiro passed from one man to the next until she stood by Maia once again and their wrists were bound together. He recited all of his lines in the right places and if they came out as shakily as he felt, no one gave any indication that he needed to pull himself together. 

He was faint by the time they turned to the assemblage and raised their joined hands, barely able to hear the cheers that rose from the crowd. The next step was to use his free hand to draw up Csethiro’s veil as she raised his and end the ceremony with a kiss. As he lifted her veil, he could see the animated way her eyes sparkled and felt fainter still, the flip of his stomach so different now than it usually was when he saw that sparkle. The kiss itself was dry and clumsy in the way first kisses often were, and Maia viciously hoped Csethiro would take it as a sign for what was to come, but as he pulled back, the mirth in her eyes hadn’t lessened at all.

In fact, she leaned against him under the guise of raising their hands again and said, _sotto voce_ , “all will be well, husband. Thou hast no need to worry so.” Maia desperately wished he could respond, but they were already being approached to be cut apart and whisked away so they could be prepared for the consummation and the assembled guests could be free to mingle until they returned for the reception.

Back in his chambers, Maia did his best to lose himself in the chatter of his edocharei again, but this time, they were excited for an entirely different reason. The hour and gaiety of such a large wedding had elevated everyone’s spirits past propriety, it seemed. He didn’t blame them for finding nothing worth commenting about in the nightshirt they pulled over his head, but the ribald jokes and thinly-veiled references to their own experiences or hopes for their own wedding nights just made his hands shake that much harder. It was hard to pass it off as exhaustion or excitement when he could hardly muster a smile or laugh in response. 

Altogether too quickly, he was undressed and stripped of the jewels from the ceremony and deposited back with Cala and Beshelar in naught but a nightshirt and his hair braided in its usual single plait. The treatment of tonight as just another night with nothing to mark it set his stomach to flips, made worse by the wait for Csethiro to appear. His saving grace was that the rest of those meant to witness the consummation would not appear until she did, so the only witnesses to his growing anxiety were those who had already seen him at his worst.

Surely it would not matter _so_ much to just ask. Surely he should have sacrificed this small scrap of dignity he could hardly call claim to anymore long before this. He could tell that Cala, at least, had discerned there was something deeper to his anxiety as he began to pace, an uncommon habit, and even Beshelar looked less stern than usual at the sight of him. They had not been on duty the night nothing had happened with Min Vechin, but surely his life was of little secret to his nohecharei, surely they must have guessed how far in over his head he was.

“Cala, I--” 

“Serenity--”

Their unfortunate unified outbursts were interrupted by a knock at the door - Csevet, signaling the arrival of Csethiro, her handmaid, and the Witnesses, all of whom filed into the room without sparing a glance for how dark their emperor’s cheeks were. Csethiro flashed him a smile as she approached and Maia returned with something that may have been called a smile if she were feeling charitable about definitions. 

There was nothing to be done but to take her hand and lead her, lead them all, into his bedchamber where the four-poster bed loomed like a spectre. Maia was briefly glad that the curtains had still not been switched from the winter hangings and would afford them that much more privacy, though he knew from sleepless nights that only the barest sounds were muffled by them. At least they would be spared the visual intrusion the gauzy summer treatments would have allowed.

He and Csethiro sat on opposite sides of the enormous bed, both swinging their legs up as the curtains were drawn around them, enclosing them and forcing Maia to face the fact that he had very little idea of what to do next. The bare mechanics, what little Setheris had imparted, seemed too rushed to start with, and he floundered, frozen still on the bed and all too aware of the sounds of clothes rustling behind him as those assembled attempted to find positions they could stand in comfortably for the unseen future. 

He was so caught up in trying to figure out where to begin that he could not stop the undignified squeak from escaping when Csethiro reached out to take his hand. 

“Thou wilt be fine, Maia, didst I tell thee not to worry?” she said softly, pitched so that her voice would not carry outside the hangings. Her thumb stroked gently over the top of Maia’s hand, and the trust in her voice burned a hole in his gut. She was trusting him to get this right and he could not guarantee that, not in the slightest. 

“Csethiro, I don’t...I have…,” he trailed off, appalled at both the way his voice started to crack and raise in volume. A cough from the other side of the hangings and a quirk of Csethiro’s eyebrow deepened the flush that hadn’t left his cheeks and that he suspected would be his companion throughout all of this even if Csethiro was not.

“I care little for that,” Csethiro said, before she pressed her mouth to his, still clumsy in her kiss, but effective in cutting off any apology or words he could offer. He thought it as good a place to begin as any and let his mouth soften so that they fit together in a way that felt better. Maia could feel Csethiro’s mouth turn up in a small smile at that, so he moved one hand up to her hair - also let down and braided into a single plait but dressed with a single comb set with moonstones - and let it rest there as he started to adjust his movement and pressure. Her lips were slick against his, and as he drew away and licked them, he could taste the softening balm his edocharei often applied to his own lips. This close, he could tell the small indentation in her bottom lip where Csethiro bit it often, likely in concentration, he thought. The image of her biting her lip as she practiced with a blade - in his mind it was the twin of the sunblade she had given him - so consumed him he could not help but lean in and kiss her again, drawing her full lower lip between his own and shyly letting his tongue run over the small, rougher spot. He could tell her lips were slightly chapped - a trait which his edocharei gave him no small amount of grief over, so he could not imagine the protests Csethiro received from her maids - and it only endeared her to him. He had been so lucky, only hoping for someone he could get along with, who might be an ally, and instead was matched with Csethiro, whom he could imagine a future and a true partnership with.

If he didn’t screw this up.

The thought crashed down on him like snowmelt down the back of his clothes and he pulled away abruptly. Or would have, had his hand not caught in Csethiro’s braid. She winced slightly, but it was chased off of her face by an intense curiosity.

“Why didst thou stop?”

Maia wanted to answer truthfully, to tell her that he hadn’t the slightest idea what he was doing and that the fact that they had an audience was a jarring reminder any time he started to enjoy himself. That the thought of Beshelar’s judging face, or worse, Lord Pashavar’s, turned any passion that might spark to ice. That no matter how unlikely it was that any on the other side were taking notes, he could not banish the thought of being graded like a schoolchild on his performance. Instead, all he could get out was, “I do not want to disappoint thee.”

“Thou art emperor,” she replied, bemused. “Surely any disappointment could be dismissed as situational. Tonight is not a night to speak of disappointments, after all.” There was a small smile, gently encouraging, and Maia wanted to take it to heart.

In the face of that, there was little for it but for Maia to try again. This time, when he kissed her, he ran one hand down her side over the soft night shirt and was obliged when she gave a light sigh and shifted towards him encouragingly. Kissing was nice; kissing was easy, in comparison to what he’d built sex up to be in his mind. Csethiro’s hands had also started to wander, moving across his shoulders as she began to take some control of the kiss and Maia could hear his pulse start to thunder in his ears as they continued. He could even feel himself starting to harden and by the way he could feel Csethiro’s smile when her legs brushed it through their nightshirts as she moved, she could too. Could they not just kiss until they completed and call that done?

Almost as if he had announced the question aloud, a throat was cleared, the thinly-veiled irritation clear in the sound. Maia had no clock - was desperately glad for not being able to tell how long he had drawn this out - but imagined the rest were rather impatient as well. All at once, the knowledge that the lack of sound was being judged just as surely as any sounds would be crashed over Maia. He pulled back, blood hot upon his cheeks. Csethiro attempted to follow, for which he was grateful - duty or not, if he had done a poor job at something so simple as kissing, surely she would simply abandon all to duty with the knowledge that no matter how she interfered, he would make a mess of it. She had not given up hope and so must not he, even though his head was ducked to avoid her kiss. 

This could not be so difficult; it could not be so different than the times he had brought himself to completion with his hand. They had been driven more by curiosity than much else - fear of Setheris or embarrassment at being heard was efficiently effective for dismissing any arousal that might stir his blood. He had never even entertained the idea that anyone would want to enter into such a relationship with him in the first place - certainly not at Edonomee, and there had been little hope then of his leaving the place.

“Something is wrong. An thou wilt not speak, nothing will change.” Csethiro’s words broke through his spiral of worry and with a spike of panic, he realized how tightly he’d been clutching to her nightshirt, from which he had still not moved his hands.

“I apologize, I,” Maia started, before taking a deep breath. If he could not trust Csethiro now, he did not know that he would ever be able, nor she him. “I know not what to do,” he admitted, unable to meet her eye and instead staring intently at the counterpane. 

Even so, he could tell when she bit back a laugh: her hands tightened slightly on his shoulder and he could hear the small huff of breath she could not rein in.

“Wouldst hardly be the first, and as fortune has it, nor do I,” she said, still low enough to not carry beyond the hangings. The sting of any reproach he could find in her words was lessened by the way her mouth quirked upwards and Maia felt at least one weight lift from his shoulders at the clear affection in her eyes. 

“It is quite an unfortunate situation to put _anyone_ in, isn’t it?” Maia could have kissed her again for the way what little spite her words carried seemed directed at those beyond the curtains instead of at him. He would have, had she not already continued on: “I beg thy pardon - I told thee I would be doing it often - but I _did_ tell thee not to worry.” Maia started to reply, but found himself quite stopped by a finger upon his lips and Csethiro’s giggle ringing in his ears. “No, hush, thou hast taken enough upon thyself; it is my turn to return the favor. An I am not wrong, thou hast been fretting about hurting or disappointing me, yes?” Maia could only nod and was gratified to see her do so in return. “Then follow my lead. I trust thou knows thy own body and responses well enough that mine art the mystery here?” At another nod, she continued, “Kiss me again, and we shall go from there.”

The sweet relief and warmth he felt was multiplied as his lips met hers again, unafraid this time and more willing to match her in experimentation. It was easier to let everything else fall away without the weight of worry on his shoulders and although he could still hear the rustling of the Witnesses’ clothes if he focused, it was quite hard to focus on them compared to the noise Csethiro made when he gave into temptation and let his hands skim the outline of her body from shoulder to hip. 

Emboldened by the gasp and her grin, he left his hands drift further down, then underneath the nightshirt, meeting her skin for the first time. She sighed as his hands skimmed up, under the soft cotton, apparently too slow for her tastes, as she placed one of her hands atop his and guided it upwards, using her thumb to stroke his across the top of her thigh. She arched into the touch and with astonishment, he could see that her nipples had started to stiffen, forming peaks visible through her nightshirt. As if in a trance, he brought one hand up to brush across one, then the other, drawing back when Csethiro made a stifled sort of cry. Though as he did so, her eyes flew open to meet his.

“Why didst thou _stop_?” She sounded so affronted that Maia could make no reply but to return to tracing the outline of her breast through the shirt, moving from nipple to the soft undercurve as Csethiro’s head once again tilted back in what he was beginning to be able to tell was obvious pleasure. 

Her neck, so arched, offered a long, pale column that looked ripe for kissing and as it was one of the few things Maia felt if not accomplished at, at least as stable ground, set to doing so. He could feel the shift as her mouth fell open and he couldn’t help but feel a little exhilarated - he hadn’t made a mess of this yet. And now, now he knew Csethiro understood and was on his side, he had another chance at this. He focused on her reactions, seeking out those places that when he kissed her there she gasped or made a sound low in her throat or, best of all, writhed slightly beneath him. He had found one spot, just at the underside of her jaw, that he kissed with attention and care that had her squirming and panting until finally she broke away, smacking him lightly on the arm and cried, “stop that, damn you, unless thou means to end it with that!”

Before he could file that away as information to remember and ask her what he should do next then, he heard a snort of laughter from behind them and realized that her cry had not been at all pitched low.

“Oh, drat. Forget them, Maia; I am sure they’re just as embarrassed by all of this as we are. And I _hope whoever laughed has his nose cut off in an accident!_ ” She raised her voice on her last words, clearly intending them to be heard and judging by the renewed shuffle of feet and robes, it had been. Maia could almost pick out Lord Berenar’s choked-off laughter at Csethiro’s proclamation, but before he could think too hard of it, Csethiro turned his head back towards her and kissed him briefly before pulling back to tug off her nightshirt. 

Maia, who had been in a state of arousal since getting the hang of kissing, felt his mouth go dry and a rush of blood flow towards his cock. Csethiro was perfect. She did not have the doll-like slenderness of Csoru or Min Vechin, but her soft curves matched Maia’s palm perfectly and upon seeing her, he would not trade her lean strength and long limbs for anyone else. He rested a hand there, on the curve of her hip, for a moment, reveling in the warmth and softness of her skin, so pale against the slate grey of his own. So much time spent in robes of Imperial white had gotten him used to the sight of the contrast, but it was fresh here; the white of linen could not hope to match the richness of tones reflected in Csethiro’s skin. Maia felt quite adrift again, awash with gratitude that circumstances had worked out so and unaware of where to start, for he wanted to start everywhere. 

“I am flattered to have left thee so speechless,” Csethiro said, and as Maia looked up to meet her eyes, even though her tone was teasing the blush that had settled on her cheeks betrayed her. He was beginning to feel desperate and so leaned in to kiss her again, not knowing what else to do, but needing to do something to appease the fire that had started under his skin.

He started to move towards the spot at her jaw that had driven her so wild before, but she batted his head away. Instead, he changed course and moved downwards, hesitantly kissing down Csethiro’s sternum then around her breasts. At her sharp inhale, he kissed more firmly, even daring to nip at the slight swell where her breast rose above her heart. Her hands tangled in his hair once again and he delighted in the “oh!” she let out as he repeated it again on her other side. 

So encouraged, he continued his ministrations until Csethiro was once again writhing against the sheets and he could feel his cock twitching at every cut-off moan she made or clutch of her hand in his hair. Her pale skin was flushed from her face down her chest, something Maia found fascinating and resolved to make happen as often as he could. He made to continue his progress and keep kissing his way down her body, but she pushed him back and shifted into a sitting position, panting to catch her breath. 

“We should…,” she said, inhaling deeply to draw both breath and courage before continuing, “we should save that for next time an we are ever to make it downstairs for the reception.” She flashed Maia a quick grin, light and fond, before it took a more mischievous cant despite the flush that climbed her face once again. “Besides, thou wilt likely find this interesting.”

With that, she took one of his hands and brought it down her body, to where she had spread her legs slightly. It was hot, so hot and so wet, even through her fingers, that Maia had to take a moment and groan against her shoulder to gain some semblance of control back before he spilt early.

“Thou art perfect,” he whispered in her ear, and laughed softly as he felt her legs tighten as she bucked against the movement of their combined hands. Even though his head still reeled and he felt at any minute he would lose his precarious hold on his control and give in to that spiral of arousal and heat that Csethiro had awakened in him, he narrowed his focus to where their fingers intertwined, where hers had started to dip into her folds. He followed her lead, first trailing along her slit and marveling in the heat and slickness there, letting his thumb linger on a nub of flesh that caused Csethiro to twist her hips sharply and her breath to come in high gasps. Her hair was starting to come undone as her head turned from side to side on the pillow, strands of it sticking to her forehead. Maia was overcome with the desire to see it entirely unbound and spread across the pillows or through his fingers, wondering how odd a request for grey sheets and pillow covers would be to his household staff. Instead, he rocked his hand more firmly against her. She responded in kind with a wild cry, driving her hips down upon his hand, her own having stopped to better grasp and guide his. Dimly, he registered that he was all but rutting against the sheets beside her, but it was all caught up in the same loop of pleasure, the feedback of her reactions and the fact that he was doing something _right_ , that he was drawing these noises, the helpless jerks of her hips against his, from her. He could feel the pleasure shifting from haze to a more insistent, sharper feeling, but Csethiro was so beautiful beneath him he could hardly spare a thought for it; it was only when she arched bodily off the bed to bury her cry of release into his shoulder that Maia realized how high the crest of it had built. His hips worked helplessly against her, any sense of lingering embarrassment or restraint lost under the crash of the wave of pleasure as he collapsed further on top of Csethiro. 

It took him some moments to come back to himself, and with some horror, he realized that Csethiro’s body was shaking underneath his, rhythmically. Heart in his throat, he was aware that he had, in fact, found a way to make a mess of this after all. Sparse as Setheris’ instruction had been, he at least knew that he had spilled outside of Csethiro and this would not accomplish anything. His heart sank as he looked up, but to his surprise, instead of sobs, Csethiro was laughing, silently, her shoulders shaking clearly with amusement and not disappointment.

“Thou art not...disappointed?” Maia couldn’t help but ask and for once he was glad for the excuse of the Witnesses on the other side of the curtains for not being able to voice the question with more strength.

Csethiro merely leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Nay, not in the least. Thou art a quick learner; I enjoyed it quite a lot.”

“But we did not…” Maia couldn’t finish, instead hoping the way his face flamed and the vague wave of his hand would make everything clear. 

Csethiro shook her head, her eyes darting to the curtains where their audience waited. “I care not for the sensation of being so observed. We will have much more time, another, better time when we are not so...distracted.” She paused, almost hesitant, shy and unsure for the first time that evening. “Thinkst thou?”

“I do, Csethiro; I am glad to hear my own thoughts are thine.” He also paused, as the reality of their situation crept back in. “Though thou knowst we will never be truly alone,” he said, thinking of his nohecharei and their constant station within his chambers. 

A sigh was his only reply for a long time, before Csethiro shifted a little beneath him to place a kiss on his shoulder. “I have had a long while to think about that, and I will simply have to get used to it. One person is so different than this...crowd. And besides, while we shall likely be...distracting,” she said, with a flash of a mischievous grin that made heat start to curl in Maia’s stomach again, the memory of the noises that had spilled from her lips not a distant one at all, “we should not be the center of attention, as it were. I can live with that.” 

Maia would likely have been quite content to continue lying there, basking in the way Csethiro’s body snugged perfectly against his if not for the reminder in both Csethiro’s words and another wave of rustling that there were people waiting outside.

“Will they believe our marriage is fully...consummated?” he finished, still choking on the last word even as Csethiro’s expression grew thoughtful.

“I see no reason why they should not. We provided appropriate and sufficient noises, I should think,” she said blithely, even as a fresh flush rose on Maia’s cheeks. “I…oh, _damn_.”

“What?”

“While they will have little trouble inspecting the sheets for evidence of fulfilled coupling, I suspect they will be looking to find blood mixed in with it.” Csethiro shot Maia a wry grin as she reached back for the comb that was still stuck atop her ruined braid. “I did have my virginity confirmed, several times over. It was quite legal, many signatures and assurances were involved.” 

“It seems disingenuous to distrust thee so after so many other contracts.”

Csethiro gave a small lift of her shoulder, a gesture so informal that Maia did not know if he were more surprised by it or the way she dashed the comb against her finger. “Ow...it does, but tis simply the way of it.” She leaned over, letting a few drops of blood fall onto the spot of wetness on the sheets that Maia has been resolutely avoiding and mixed it together. “There. Perhaps thou canst make it another one of thy projects, another old tradition to throw into upheaval now that the Corzhas seems to be settled after the Wisdom Bridge.” The teasing note in her voice brought out a chuff of laughter from him instead of a start of disapproval, and warmth unfurled within Maia’s chest at the thought of being able to discuss policy and decisions with Csethiro, to have her truly beside him as a partner.

A deep sigh broke him from his reverie and he looked up to find Csethiro pulling on her nightshirt. “Thou should let our _audience_ know their duties are over,” she proclaimed, which set Maia to a coughing fit. But he did manage to get out, stronger than he had hoped, “The...consummation is complete.”

He did his best to ignore the muttered, “oh merciful goddesses, _finally_ ” and soft sighs of relief as the curtains were pulled back and he and Csethiro were hustled out of the room to be cleaned and redressed for the reception. Maia resolutely did not look back to see their sheets being inspected; so deep was his resolution he jumped when he felt Cala’s hand on his shoulder. “Well done, Serenity.” The soft approval in Cala’s voice was almost as much of a balm on his nerves as the quick wink Csethiro had given him before they parted from his chambers. Beshelar’s resolute silence and expression that seemed no more judging than normal went quite far to soothe him as well.

Being dressed was a blur again and Maia desperately wished for some tea to help him keep awake, but in short order he was dressed and headed for the reception, where, he realized with some horror, the assembled guests had simply been waiting for their return. There was no secret what the bride and groom were absent for, and he struggled to keep the mortification from his face as he realized that the rounds of gossip would be running for weeks solely based on how long he and Csethiro had taken in his chambers.

However, before he could get too far caught up in this train of thought, he felt a warm hand take his and looked up to see Csethiro there, a smile at both her mouth and eyes, and his heart lifted.

He was sure the smile that spread across his face read clear relief to Csethiro and was unfitting for an emperor. He was equally sure that for once he did not care for the opinions of the court; Csethiro had been correct - for today, disappointment and impropriety were dismissed. For there was no better day to smile unabashedly than today, his wedding day where, as so many things had, the situation had resolved itself better than he could ever have allowed himself to hope. 

Together, they raised their joined hands to the assembled crowd once again and once again they were met with cheers. This time Maia felt like cheering along with them, and did not protest as Csethiro led them down the aisle of people that had formed and stopped them in the middle. Automatically, his hands lifted to their proper positions, and she laughed, clear and light, dispelling any lingering doubts like a strong beam of sunshine through mist. “You see, Serenity, our lessons have paid off and now it is time to prove to us that we should indeed be proud to dance with you tonight.”

Her hands met his and the orchestra started up a waltz, one that he recognized from their many practices. Startled, he met her eyes and could only continue to grin helplessly at the twinkle he saw there, as if to say, _see? As if I would let thee fail._ And as he executed the spin they had practiced so many times flawlessly, she laughed again and he couldn’t help but join in.

They were once again the center of attention as they spun across the floor, but the sea of courtiers faded away in a blur; Maia had eyes only for Csethiro. As the waltz ended and their steps came to a halt, he gave in to the impulse to lean down and kiss her once again, pouring all his thanks and nascent love for her into the warm press of his mouth against hers. And as the cheers and applause died down, Csethiro pronounced, “we have no reason to be disappointed in your skills, Serenity; we are most pleased.” 

From the laughter and claps to his shoulder now that the spell was broken, Csethiro’s double meaning had not been lost on the crowd, but his concern over their reactions and impressions were washed away by the warm look in her eyes. Buoyed by his own feelings echoed back at him, he let himself be swept away by the congratulatory crowd; he knew that he would be returned to her and she to him. They would and could face any challenges, together.


End file.
